It's Okay
by WinterSky101
Summary: A WtNV fic. The second Carlos heard Cecil say that the thing had bit him, he turned the radio up. He had to be listening to make sure that Cecil was okay. He wasn't. Episode tag for Episode 43: Visitor. Cecil/Carlos.


**Oh my god Khoshekh poor baby my _heart_**

**Here's Carlos's perspective on the end of episode 43 and what happens afterwards.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own WtNV.**

* * *

The second Carlos heard Cecil say that the thing had bit him, he turned the radio up. His fellow scientists shot him a curious look as he did so; normally, Carlos just had the radio as background noise. But he had to be listening to make sure that Cecil was okay.

He wasn't.

Carlos listened with a sense of horror as Cecil described how the creature was going after him. He listened with a sense of _wrongwrongwrong_ as the unfamiliar voice, the one he vaguely recognized from somewhere else, talked about Strex and a smiling god and some other things Carlos didn't really understand. And then Carlos listened with panic as Cecil told how he was hiding in the bathroom and the thing had followed him and it attacked Khoshekh and _oh God Cecil was going to go out and fight it._

Carlos got absolutely no work done during the weather; he spent the entire time sitting and waiting for Cecil to return. The other scientists worked around him, knowing better than to disturb him when he was in that sort of mood.

Then Cecil's voice came back on and Carlos immediately knew that something was wrong. As he reported in a slightly shaking voice that Khoshekh had been hurt, Carlos grabbed his car keys and raced out. None of his scientists even commented; they were all used to it by now.

Carlos's car radio was playing Cecil's show, as all radios did, regardless of whether or not they were on or working or smashed with a hammer (which Carlos sort of regretted, but it was his first week in Night Vale and the freaking radio wouldn't turn off and the newscaster just kept going on about his hair and Carlos really wanted to get some work done already). Carlos listened to the story of how the thing was actually a machine and how it had been shut off. He listened to how Lauren said that it was a Strex "gift," which he really should have guessed, considering how terrible Strex was. And Carlos listened to Cecil's furious voice as he swore that he would find vengeance. Despite the obvious anger, Carlos could hear how upset Cecil truly was. He said he was going to see Khoshekh, but Carlos guessed that, if he were quick enough, he could get to the radio station before Cecil left.

The radio station came into sight as Cecil did his sign-off. Carlos could see that some of the Sheriff's Secret Police were there, probably waiting for Cecil to come out so they could talk to him. Carlos didn't care; no one could stop him from getting to his Cecil.

"Um, excuse me!" one of the Sheriff's Secret Police officers called to Carlos as he got out of his car. "You can't- Oh. It's you, Mr. Scientist."

"I'm going in to get Cecil," Carlos informed the officer. He nodded.

"Of course. Go ahead." The officer held the door open for Carlos as he entered the station, making a beeline for the men's bathroom. Cecil was in there, as Carlos had thought he would be. He was standing by the sinks, staring at the place where Khoshekh normally floated, the place where there was currently a small river of blood on the floor. His fists were clenched and his entire body was trembling slightly.

"Cecil?" Carlos asked cautiously, taking a step forward. "Cecil, it's me."

"There was so much blood," Cecil whispered numbly. "He was hurt so badly. My baby was hurt so badly."

"You said that Animal Control said he'd live," Carlos offered. Cecil bit out a choked laugh.

"Live," he repeated bitterly. "They didn't say he'd be okay. They didn't say he'd be the same. They said he'd _live_. What use is just _living_?"

"Cecil…" Carlos put a gentle hand on Cecil's shoulder. Cecil let out a shuddering breath as he relaxed a bit into the touch. "Khoshekh will live through this, and so will you."

"But there was so much blood," Cecil mumbled. Carlos turned him around and gently led Cecil's head to his shoulder, holding him tightly. Cecil's ragged breaths quickly turned into sobs. Carlos gently sat down, pulling Cecil into his lap, holding him as he wept in the men's room of the radio station.

"You're okay," Carlos whispered as he rubbed Cecil's back. "You're okay. It's okay. Khoshekh will live. The thing is gone. It's okay. You're okay." The comfort continued until Cecil's tears slowly stopped.

"I need to go see Khoshekh," he whispered. "He should be getting out of surgery soon."

"First, we're going and getting you cleaned up," Carlos corrected. "Your pants are covered in blood, and I don't know how much of it is yours and how much is Khoshekh's. You can get changed, I'll bandage your bite wound if I have to, and then we'll go and see Khoshekh together, okay?"

"Okay," Cecil whispered. Carlos helped him up and led him to the door. Together, they walked out of the radio station, Cecil leaning on Carlos and limping a bit more than made Carlos entirely comfortable. He would definitely have to check out Cecil's leg to make sure it wasn't serious.

"Um, Mr. Palmer? Mr. Scientist?" Carlos turned to see the same Sheriff's Secret Police officer as before coming over to him. "We need to get Mr. Palmer's statement."

"You can get his statement tomorrow," Carlos replied. The officer looked uncomfortable.

"We really need it today. It won't take too long, and-"

"You can get his statement tomorrow," Carlos repeated, his voice firm and a hint menacing. The officer froze for a moment, then nodded.

"Yeah. That works. We'll get it tomorrow." Carlos and Cecil weren't bothered the rest of their way to Carlos's car.

"You stood up to a Sheriff's Secret Police officer for me," Cecil murmured in a dazed sort of voice. Carlos pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead as he bundled him into the passenger seat.

"I'd stand up to a hundred Sheriff's Secret Police officers for you," he replied, sliding into the driver's seat. "Now let's go get you cleaned up. We can go see Khoshekh after, and everything will be alright."

* * *

_One week later…_

"Carlos, look!" Cecil cried. Carlos looked over into the living room from the kitchen, closing the refrigerator door.

"What is it?"

"Khoshekh flicked his tail at me!" Cecil gushed. "He's getting better so quickly? Aren't you, you good boy!" Carlos watched with a smile as Cecil gently petted Khoshekh's head, careful to avoid the bandages. "I think he'll be okay to return to the men's bathroom at the radio station soon!"

"I'm sure he will," Carlos replied, a faint hint of amusement in his voice. "But we'll have to get the okay from the hospital first."

"Of course," Cecil replied, as if it were obvious. "And until then, he'll keep staying with us. _Won't_ you, you sweet boy?" Cecil kept cooing at Khoshekh as Carlos turned and went back into the kitchen, finishing up the lunch he had made for himself and Cecil. A minute later, he went into the living room with two plates, both laden with potato-bread sandwiches (no wheat or wheat by-products whatsoever) and some of John Peters (you know, the farmer?)'s imaginary corn. Cecil accepted his plate gratefully.

"Thank you," he told Carlos, kissing him on the cheek. "But I _can_ do these things by myself, you know."

"As long as you're still using that cane, I don't want you lifting a finger," Carlos replied. Cecil looked down at his hand in confusion.

"What do my fingers have to do with my cane?" he asked Carlos in a puzzled voice. Khoshekh meowed his agreement. Immediately, the saying was forgotten as Cecil rushed to shower Khoshekh with praise and pet him gently. Carlos just sat back with a slight smile on his face and watched.


End file.
